Building on his legacy as a skilled storyteller, award-winning author Joseph Dandurand continues to write about trauma, love, grief and forgiveness in his latest poetry collection I Would Like to Say Thank You. These poems are about the streets, the East Side, self-pity, spirits and Dandurand’s people, the Kwantlen.
Joseph Dandurand is a member of the Kwantlen First Nation and director of the Kwantlen Cultural Centre, located on the Fraser River about twenty minutes east of Vancouver, BC. (www.nightwoodeditions.com).
Interviewed by Michelle Hardy
Michelle Hardy (MH): Hello Joseph, thank you for talking with me today. I’m a developmental editor so my first questions are structural, about the ways you’ve chosen to organize your poetry.
In terms of visual organization, the narrative poems in I Would Like to Say Thank You are either long, narrow, and left-side-justified or full-page unpunctuated blocks of text.
How do you decide on the visual shape of a poem?
Joseph Dandurand (JD): I’ve been writing for thirty years now, and I notice in my last few manuscripts, my poetry anyway, each original poem is one paragraph. Yeah. It’s the way I’ve been writing lately. I’m up at 5:00 AM and I usually write one poem a day. I don’t edit. Well, I do a once-over. But I don’t edit any of my work. Once they’re done, they’re done. The book editor decides on the formatting of the poems for the final published copy, which is great. I’m fine with that.
(MH): Once you’re ready to compile a collection, how do you decide on the order of the poems? Which poem acts as the anchor for this collection, the poem around which all the other poems float? Where is the anchor poem situated within the order and why did you choose to place it there?
(JD): I have no foreseeable idea of what the book’s going to be about. In some ways, every poem is connected but in a lot of cases they’re not. They’re just everyday different thoughts. Around a hundred pages is when I start realizing it’s coming to an end, and I usually know when I’ve written the last piece. Before I’m even done a manuscript or a project, I’m already thinking about my next project. The final publication order is the order that the poems were written, except for the title poem in this collection. That was from an earlier manuscript. “I would like to say thank you …” is a piece that I use when I’m teaching adults or high school kids. I’ll read it out loud. I just like the way it sounds.
(MH): Throughout I Would Like to Say Thank You the speaker uses various vivid verbs to describe the process of writing poetry. For example:
- “I punch out poems / to soothe the soul” (from “I would like to say thank you …”)
- “I sat in a room / and chopped out / good and bad poems” (from “Shattered”)
- “the words pouring out of my mind” (from “Way out west”)
Some verbs sound violent or surgical and evoke imagery of portions or chunks. Other verbs flow and provide, perhaps, a bit of relief.
Can you describe how poetry arrives for you, into your mind, onto the page?
(JD): The words just seem to fall on paper. I used to get in trouble because I used the word “and” a lot. But I’m writing how it sounds to me out loud. For me “and” is almost like taking the time for a breath, and that’s why I use the word “and” a lot. I have no idea where the poems come from and it’s terrifying but wonderful at the same time. I love poetry. I also write plays and children’s stories. I want to talk about our history and how the Kwantlen have an oral history. Nothing was written in a book. Everything was pretty much lost by the time of my mom’s generation. And I mean that in the sense that our language is lost and all our stories are lost. So as a storyteller, I have absolutely nothing to pull from. Everything I write comes from my imagination.
(MH): That leads well into my next question. Maybe you can expand on storytelling a bit more. Last summer I visited Harrison Lake for the first time.
(JD): Awesome. Did you see Sasquatches?
(MH): Well, I saw the Sasquatch signs and cultural information posted by the Sts’ailes First Nations. I learned that the legendary creature Sasquatch, whom I’ve always believed was a pop culture marketing sensation for gas station convenience stores in the mountains, is a spiritual being embedded in oral tradition. I felt surprised and humbled by the extent to which I was uneducated and uninformed.
(JD): The idea is that the Sasquatches walk through Sts’ailes and Harrison when crossing. I have friends that have seen them, but I’ve never seen them. I always ask kids if they’ve ever seen them, and I always tell kids you’ll probably smell them before you see them.
(MH): Sasquatch, an important figure for the Kwantlen as well, makes an appearance in two poems from your new collection: “A shaming encounter” and “Constant amazement at his perfect being.” I’ve also read your children’s book The Sasquatch, the Fire and the Cedar Baskets.
When you perform readings, either in your region or far away, how do children and adults react to your Kwantlen stories and teachings of Sasquatch?
(JD): I gotta admit, it’s a hard sell. I always start off by teaching the kids our Kwantlen story. Ten thousand years ago we fell from the sky and landed on this island where I live now and have been fishing ever since. And I tell them that I look pretty good for being ten thousand years old. Their eyes get really big, and then I read them the story about Sasquatch, and there are always kids that question, “Are they real?” And I say “Yeah, I think they’re real.” I mean, at the end of the day, I’m a storyteller, right? So, I can lean on the beliefs and truths a little bit, as long as I believe my stories to be true. Grade twos are my favourite. I’ll be reading a story to them, and someone will put their hand up and I’ll ask, what is it? And they’ll say, my dad’s got tattoos. And I say ohhh, right on. And they’re all missing their front teeth. And as for adults, when I do my poetry readings, I can almost sense the audience and how they’re doing. I don’t try and preach. I just read pieces that I think sound good in my head and in my voice. I have them at ease when I’m not tense, and I have a willingness to share. And I think that’s one of the most important things about who I am now: my willingness and ability to share.
(MH): Although the poems in I Would Like to Say Thank You reveal much that has been taken from the speaker, he is generous with what he has left to give: his stories, his smokes, some fish, his love.
Can you talk to us about gratitude?
(JD): I quit smoking. A month ago, I had a heart attack, but I didn’t realize it at the time. Two years ago, I had a collapse due to high blood sugar and diabetes, and about a month ago I had a similar collapse, and I thought it was again, my diabetes. But when I went to emergency it was a heart attack. So, I had to get three stents put in my heart. I was in ICU for eight days, and that was the day I quit smoking. I’m bad with drugs, alcohol, etc. which is why I don’t do them. So, I quit smoking, and I kind of woke up and I thought, if I was a cat, I’d only have about three lives left so I need to take care of myself better. So now I’m on the right medications.
What I know is that right now I’m writing some of the best pieces I’ve ever written, to me anyway. I have a new play I’ll be workshopping the first week of September in Vancouver. Also, I have two new books coming out. I’ll be busy with that. It just amazes me that, here’s this guy who has three lives left, and he can do all this. You know what I mean? My kids are all healthy, and I just gotta get my shit together. I still have so much to say and write about every day. Right now, I’m working on short stories for children. And all my children’s stories and plays have the same theme: that you should always give something back or we’ll have nothing left. I’m grateful to be able to write pieces like that.